mutilation,
they call it.

mutilation,
like i’m a butcher
in search of meat to cleave,
and rather than stain my knife
on the skins of bleating livestock
or sweat over a hunt or chase,
i choose the path of least resistance:
myself, my flesh, my matter—
so naïve and unknowing,
defenceless in the face of change.

mutilation,
as if the weight
i mean to carve away
isn’t unwelcome or di...

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